


Little Yellow Tags: Part 4

by lurkdusoleil



Series: Little Yellow Tags [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Time, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Romance, Skank!Blaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 10:06:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lurkdusoleil/pseuds/lurkdusoleil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine navigate what it means to want each other like they do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Yellow Tags: Part 4

**Author's Note:**

> The D/s aspect of this story is introduced here, if you are reading in-story chronologically.

Blaine likes to hold Kurt down when they’re making out.  Kurt’s convinced they’re moving a little fast either way, but for some reason being held down makes him think this is going further than it might appear. After all, they’re just making out, aren’t they? It should  _feel_ like they’re just making out, not...not...   
  
Actually, Kurt’s not entirely sure how to describe it. It feels too intimate. Too close. Like Blaine’s inside him, somehow, just by grabbing his wrists and pushing him back onto the bed or the couch, or the backseat, or the bleachers, or...one of any of the many places they’ve gotten carried away with kissing.   
  
Not that Blaine’s not a gentleman about it. And Kurt is, too. When either one of them calls stop, the other stops, no questions asked. It’s important that both of them be ready--to Kurt, taking that last step, getting intimate with someone, having  _ sex _ , regardless of what that means for the logistics of it...it’s a  _ step _ . It’s a big part of a relationship.   
  
The fact that he thinks of it like this and it still doesn’t feel  _ wrong _ regardless of how his logical mind seems to think about the pace, that says something, of course. Maybe...maybe he’s ready.  _ Really _ ready.   
  
There was a time when he was convinced he wouldn’t have sex until college, until he found a boy to fall in love with. He wanted to be their boyfriend, start with little kisses and hand holding and work his way up. And he and Blaine...their first day with  _ this _ , this undefined relationship they have, Blaine kissed Kurt gentle and sweet the first few times, but soon it became something hard and fast, and Kurt had kissed back just as passionately, because even after only knowing each other for a couple of weeks, it had felt like  _ finally _ .   
  
This is starting to feel like that. The making out, the urge to just beg Blaine to take him--as tacky as that sounds in his head--it’s feeling like the urge to kiss Blaine in the days before Blaine had taken it out of his hands and just  _ done _ it. Because Blaine’s articulate, but he doesn’t seem to  _ need _ words in the way that Kurt does. After weeks of buildup, of tension, the moment had felt  _ right _ , and Blaine had seized it.    
  
Kurt should seize  _ this _ moment. Shouldn’t he?   
  
Kurt doesn’t want to assume, of course, that Blaine is ready as well. But he’s about ninety percent sure Blaine’s experienced enough to not make a big deal out of it--he talks shit with the Skanks a lot, and they really seem to love the topic of sex. Kurt’s overheard, more than once, Blaine talking about sneaking out to clubs and picking up ‘twinks’ and bending them over in bathrooms, and basically every pornographic story that Kurt hates. All the scenarios he never wanted to find himself in. But at least Blaine has been perfectly happy to wait with him while he catches up, because Blaine has only bragged about previous conquests since they got together, and has fully cooperated with the waiting thing.   
  
Kurt just needs to make a move. Even if it’s just  _ saying _ it. Talking can be taking action, too. And he needs to act before it drives him insane.   
  
\--   
  
It’s an impulse when he brings it up. A blurt, really.   
  
“I think I’m ready.”   
  
Blaine pulls back and stares down at Kurt. Kurt relaxes his hands underneath Blaine’s grip, from where he’d been playfully fighting, a little nervous, especially as it had just fallen out of his mouth mid-kiss. He stares up, almost giggling at the shocked look on Blaine’s face.   
  
“Um,” Blaine says. “Like...now?”   
  
He pulls back, kneeling up from where he’d been hovering over Kurt’s hips. He settles down on Kurt’s thighs, and Kurt leans up on his elbows.   
  
“If...if you want,” he replies, trying for seductive, but he’s pretty sure seductive doesn’t involve that high pitched breathy thing he does when he’s turned on.   
  
Blaine seems to think so, though, by the way his jaw drops and he shifts uncomfortably. His pants had already been bulging a bit, but Kurt thinks his zipper might break any second.   
  
“I--I think we should talk,” Blaine says, and Kurt’s eyes snap up, and  _ oh _ , he was staring,  _ oops _ . Blaine climbs off and sits next to Kurt instead, blinking down at him. “What...that was kind of sudden.”   
  
“I’m sorry,” Kurt says automatically, feeling doubtful and ashamed, like he’d somehow let Blaine down, even if he had no idea, logically, why. “I just figured you’d want to know, you’ve been waiting for me this whole time--”   
  
“I’m waiting for me, too, Kurt,” Blaine says calmly. It’s Kurt’s turn to blink up at Blaine, trying to catch up.   
  
“Wait, what?”   
  
“I...I wanted to...wait, for myself,” Blaine clarifies, completely unhelpfully. “I mean...I do want that with you, and soon, but I don’t think I’m prepared to take that step today.”   
  
“Do you mean you don’t have the supplies?” Kurt asks, confused. “Because...I do, I bought some the other day, it was...awkward and awful, I swear the cashier just kept  _ leering _ at me, but--”   
  
“No, I mean--” Blaine stops and takes a deep breath. He doesn’t like to stammer, Kurt’s noticed, and he’s pretty deliberate about what he says. So this new, awkward Blaine, this is...something else. “I mean I just need a little time to wrap my head around moving forward like that. I want to with you, absolutely, it’s been torture not just tearing all your clothes off, but that’s why they invented masturbation.”   
  
“It’s really hot in here, could we open a window--”   
  
“I want both of us to be ready,” Blaine continues over him. “I wanted to do it right. Maybe that’s silly.”   
  
“It’s not silly,” Kurt says, not liking the way Blaine is looking down. He cups Blaine’s cheek and lifts his face, making and holding eye contact. “I really appreciate that you’d want to make it special for the poor little virgin.”   
  
Blaine’s brow knots, and he looks angry and confused for a moment before he finally just looks confused.   
  
“What?” Kurt asks. “What is it?”   
  
“Kurt, I  _ am _ a virgin.”   
  
Kurt stares.   
  
“But--but those stories you tell the Skanks--about the boys at the clubs, and at the country club you snuck into, and--”   
  
“Oh, god, I didn’t mean for you to hear that.” Blaine runs his hand through his curls. “Look, Kurt, there’s...there are things people expect. The Skanks would give me hell if I didn’t join their little talks. They’d never shut up about it. So I just make stuff up; I’ve never been with anyone.”   
  
“Oh,” Kurt says, and he secretly feels a little pleased. Not that he wouldn’t want Blaine regardless, but he had been so worried about Blaine seeing him as immature and inexperienced and clumsy. Now they can be that  _ together _ . He doesn’t feel quite so alone.   
  
“But if you want to move forward, if you’re ready,” Blaine says, taking another breath. “I mean...I am, too. Not tonight, because I think the mood’s been killed, but...”   
  
“Soon?” Kurt asks.   
  
“Soon,” Blaine corroborates. “When we can take some time with it, okay?”   
  
Kurt grins, and leans into Blaine.   
  
“Can we do what we were doing before, then?”   
  
Blaine pushes him down, grabbing his wrists once more and rolling on top of him, hovering like he always does.   
  
“I think I can manage that.”   
  
\--   
  
All week, the timing isn’t right. It feels like the universe is just stepping in the way--Glee club calls extra meetings, or Burt wants Kurt to help at the shop, or Blaine gets a call from an old friend who wants to meet for coffee, or a teacher assigns a paper. They find time to make out, of course, but never time to go further.   
  
It makes the kissing a lot more... _ more _ . There’s a fire in it, an urgency, that wasn’t there before. And every time Blaine holds him against the chain link under the bleachers or the wall of his room or against the back seat, Kurt’s tempted more and more just to pull Blaine’s hips to his and rock together until they come in their pants.   
  
He won’t, of course. But he wants to.   
  
But the weekend finally comes, and he finally gets out of his house before anyone can give him an obligation. He texts Blaine, probably waking him up in the process, and drives over, his hands trembling faintly, a strangely hollow, surreal feeling in his chest, like this isn’t actually happening, like it’s a dream, like he’s floating. He can barely remember driving over, but suddenly he’s in front of the house Blaine lives in, his foot bouncing and jostling his leg, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he panics briefly.   
  
He’s still ready, of course. But what if it’s terrible? What if he’s bad at it, what if Blaine wants nothing to do with him after, what if--   
  
His phone buzzes.   
  
_ Stop freaking out and come upstairs _ .   
  
Kurt instantly pockets his phone and obeys the order. It’s out of his hands now--and he feels soothed by Blaine taking control of the situation like that, taking the responsibility and pressure off of him. He feels suddenly calm, decisive, like Blaine’s decision instantly became his own as soon as it was made.   
  
Maybe that’s all he needs to do. Just let Blaine handle it. If there comes a time when Blaine doesn’t know what to do either, well...they’ll figure it out together. He doesn’t have to shoulder the entire burden anymore. He can share it, maybe even toss it aside for at least a short time. And he is so very, very tired of holding up that weight.   
  
That’s how he feels.  _ Weightless _ . He practically floats up the stairs to Blaine’s second floor apartment, and his heart pounds--excited, now, not scared.   
  
Blaine pulls him into the apartment as soon as he opens the door, just as Kurt approaches. Kurt half-expects Blaine to shove him back against it and just get started there, but instead he softly takes Kurt’s hand and walks him into the house, facing Kurt and walking backwards, never looking away. They stop in the middle of the hall, just past the open plan of the living room and kitchen, a few steps from Blaine’s room. Blaine takes both of Kurt’s hands and threads their fingers together, brushing his lips lightly over where they join.   
  
“Don’t think,” he says, calm and even and firm. “Just feel, okay?”   
  
Kurt starts shaking like a leaf, something about the suggestion reaching into him and removing something vital to his composure. He feels overwhelmed and turned on and weak with anticipation and nerves, and so, so emotional. He feels taken care of and laid bare and he hasn’t removed a single article of clothing, and the only thing that’s been touched are his hands.   
  
Blaine is going to break him apart. He knows it deep in his core. And he’s not entirely sure if he wants it to happen quickly or if he wants it to last forever.   
  
“You’ll tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable,” Blaine says, and it’s not a question. “I’ll do the same.”   
  
Kurt nods, licking his dry lips and breathing deeply. He was right--Blaine is in control. Blaine knows what to do. All he has to do is surrender.   
  
His head tips back and his eyes close, and it’s the signal Blaine must have been waiting for. He drops Kurt’s hands and kneels before him, unlacing his boots and helping him step out of them. He lays them aside before he stands again, pulling Kurt’s bag off of his shoulder and placing it next to the boots. His jacket follows, and then Blaine’s lips press a dry, careful kiss right on his throat.   
  
“Come on.”   
  
Kurt follows him, eyes half-lidded, into the bedroom. Here they stop again, and Blaine guides Kurt until he’s standing at the foot of the bed, the backs of his knees just brushing it. Blaine very, very slowly lifts Kurt’s shirt, hands and eyes exploring as he’s bared. Once it’s over his head, his lips take over, trailing wet and warm from shoulders to chest to stomach until he’s kneeling, removing Kurt’s pants and underwear just as reverently, handling him and taking him in before he retraces everything with his mouth. Kurt feels like he’s harder than he’s ever been, giving himself over to the feeling of Blaine studying him,  _ learning _ him. His breath comes short, and staccato whines build in the back of his throat, growing in volume until Blaine stands, hands brushing from the backs of his thighs up to his shoulder blades, and hushes him with a deep kiss.   
  
Kurt falls into it, eyes closed long ago, hands that had been hanging loosely at his sides rising to hold onto Blaine’s arms as he holds Kurt up with hands on either side of his face. His cock juts, bumping into Blaine’s still-clothed stomach, and he whimpers and flinches at the shock that goes through him.   
  
“Please,” he whispers, when Blaine pulls away, nuzzling Kurt’s cheek softly. “Please, Blaine.”   
  
He might be begging for more, or less--he’s not entirely sure. He just knows he needs  _ something _ to happen, one way or another. He can’t hover like this--he’ll lose his mind.   
  
“I’ve got you,” Blaine replies just as softly, pushing him gently. “Lie down for me. Up against the pillows. Get yourself comfortable.”   
  
Kurt sits on the bed and scooches back, pushing himself with his arms until he’s reclined against the pillows like Blaine had asked. He rubs his hands on his thighs, feeling his skin and taking away some of his own tension, watching Blaine as he takes Kurt in.   
  
“My beautiful,” he says, and Kurt flushes under his stare, fighting off the urge to cover himself with his hands. Instead, he relaxes back, letting Blaine see, letting him  _ want _ .   
  
Blaine tugs his clothes off, quick and easy, and Kurt’s breath catches as he sees Blaine’s body for the first time. He’s beautiful--lines and angles and dustings of hair, with little curves over that Kurt wants to wrap himself around. He spreads his legs without realizing what he’s doing, and Blaine groans, stroking his cock slowly, still just watching.   
  
“You’re so gorgeous, Kurt,” he says, and Kurt bites his lips, reaching out his hands.   
  
“Come here,” he says, beckoning to Blaine, welcoming him. “Please touch me.”   
  
Blaine immediately crawls up the bed, laying himself over Kurt, hovering with minimal contact for a long moment before he lowers himself, and suddenly they’re touching  _ everywhere.  _ Blaine’s body is hot and hard and he’s not heavy but Kurt feels like he’s just  _ pressed _ into the bed and he spreads his thighs wide and winds his arms around Blaine’s back and accepts Blaine’s frantic kiss.   
  
“Want you,” Blaine grits out. “Oh, fuck, Kurt, I was gonna--gonna take my time, wanted to make it good for you, but I just--”   
  
“Want you, too,” Kurt says, panting as Blaine rocks against him, their cocks sliding alongside one another, too dry but new and exciting and  _ so good-- _ “Want you to fuck me. Please?”   
  
“Oh, fuck,” Blaine whimpers. “I was--slow, we should go slow--”   
  
“No,” Kurt protests. “You told me to feel. Want to feel you inside me.”   
  
Blaine bucks his hips uncontrollably, and Kurt bites back a cry, digging his heels into Blaine’s thighs, pulling him in.   
  
“Okay, okay.” Blaine pulls Kurt’s arms from him and backs away, breaking from his hold and leaning over to the nightstand. Only then does Kurt wrap a hand around himself, gasping at the contact of his palm sweeping over his swollen head, smearing precome and spreading it down in the tight circle of his fingers. Blaine turns back, lube and condom in hand, and licks his lips at the sight, crawling back eagerly.   
  
“Let me suck you first,” he says, and Kurt nods instantly.   
  
“Yes, yes, please, just--ah, ah!”   
  
Blaine closes his mouth around the head, a little hesitant until Kurt starts fighting against the hands Blaine laid on his hips. He keeps his bobs shallows, sucking lightly, flicking his tongue, and it’s more than enough--Kurt’s sure that if Blaine had gone full-out and swallowed him down, he might have exploded in a second. But Blaine just takes him in a little at a time, teasing with his hands, his tongue ring rubbing over his skin when Blaine licks him, and it’s like nothing Kurt’s ever thought he could experience. He lays back and lets it happen, lets Blaine build him up and up and up until--   
  
“I’m gonna come,” he blurts out. “Blaine, I’m gonna--”   
  
Blaine pulls back and fists him quickly, and Kurt makes good on his promise, spilling over Blaine’s hand, messy and hard. Blaine carelessly wipes his hand on the sheet beside them before rising up, kissing Kurt soundly.   
  
“Wanted to come with you in me,” Kurt whines, and Blaine grins.   
  
“You still can,” he says, shrugging. “We’ve got all day.”   
  
Kurt falls back and gasps again as Blaine slithers down, one hand cupping his balls and closing his lips around his left nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue. Kurt writhes, too sensitive, but he doesn’t tell Blaine to stop. It’s...it’s  _ good _ , in a sharp way. It feels like when Blaine bites marks into him when they make out--but the feeling is all through him, denser where Blaine fondles him back to hardness and where he licks Kurt’s nipples into tight buds.   
  
“Gonna finger you,” Blaine says, once Kurt is halfway hard again, and it’s the first time he sees Blaine’s face slip, sees concern and care and something other than blind lust. “You’ll tell me, if everything’s okay or not, you’ll say--”   
  
“I’ll speak up,” Kurt replies, nodding, cupping Blaine’s cheeks between his hands. “I’ll let you know.”   
  
“I just--I’ve only done this on myself, I--”   
  
“I trust you,” Kurt says, kissing Blaine softly. “I trust you, okay?”   
  
Blaine nods, and just like that he’s grabbing the lube, back to mouthing over Kurt’s chest as he slicks his fingers and rubs them behind Kurt’s balls and down to his hole.   
  
“That’s--that’s good,” Kurt stammers, twitching when Blaine prods at him with one fingertip, just pressing around his rim. “You can--put it in, do it--”   
  
Blaine slides his finger in, and Kurt’s breath rushes from him. Unlike Blaine, he’s never done this to himself, never wanted to feel it, never wanted to open up like this. But Blaine inside him, even just this little bit, this feels  _ right _ , full and spread and  _ amazing _ but not nearly enough, he needs _ more-- _   
  
“--more, more, come on,” he’s saying, bearing down on Blaine’s finger. Blaine holds his waist with his other hand, steadying him.   
  
“It’s okay, baby,” he soothes. “You’re okay. I’ll give you want you want, always give you everything.”   
  
Blaine slides in a second finger, and it’s only uncomfortable for a moment before something inside Kurt opens,  _ snaps _ , and Blaine’s thrusting in and out, and Kurt’s just laying there, lax, accepting, and Blaine’s praising him and petting his side and kissing him, and Kurt can barely think, barely  _ move _ , barely breathe--   
  
“So good, baby,” Blaine says, and it sounds like it’s coming in at a distance. Kurt rocks down onto the fingers and Blaine take the opportunity to press in three, breaching him easier than Kurt had ever expected. Wasn’t this supposed to hurt, wasn’t it supposed to be uncomfortable? Shouldn’t he be tensing up at the intrusion, feeling  _ wrong _ somehow?   
  
“See?” Kurt laughs, a little hysterically, his tongue feeling clumsy in his mouth, as Blaine slides the fingers slowly in and out of him, quickening as he meets less and less resistance. “You’re perfect, it feels amazing--”   
  
“This is all you, sweetheart,” Blaine says, his voice choked a bit. “Are you good? You ready for me?”   
  
“Yeah,” Kurt answers breathlessly, nodding and pulling his hips back, leaning up on his elbows and watching as Blaine slides the condom onto himself and slicks lube over it. He has another surreal moment, another second of floating, feeling outside of himself, as though watching a dream. It’s distant, time distorted and space stretched, and his body thrums separate from his mind as the feeling sings.   
  
And then Blaine’s there, sliding between his legs, lining himself up with one hand and grabbing Kurt’s wrists with the other, pressing him down, down, down as he pushes in.   
  
Kurt gasps, loud and swift, as Blaine thrusts in little by little, the stretch thick and hard and  _ right _ , and it hits him, when he feels Blaine’s hips settle against him for a minute, still and buzzing with the need to become kinetic, that Blaine is  _ inside _ him. They’re as close as they can possibly get, a piece of Blaine is actually  _ in _ him, he’s letting this happen and it feels so  _ good _ and Blaine looks like he’s going to fall apart from it. They’re sweaty and shivering with heat and holding back and  _ god _ he just needs Blaine to  _ move _ .   
  
It’s Kurt who moves first, though. Blaine looks completely frozen, slack-jawed and dazed, his brow tense, his body straining. Kurt pulls against Blaine’s hold on his wrists, using it as leverage to drag himself halfway off of Blaine’s cock before shoving himself back down, high noises drifting from his throat when Blaine tenses further, his grip tightening on Kurt’s wrists, his other hand cupped under one cheek of Kurt’s ass.   
  
“Come on,” Kurt groans. “Blaine, come on, need you--”   
  
Blaine runs his hand up from Kurt’s ass to his thigh and wraps his arm around Kurt’s leg, lifting it around his waist and shifting until he’s got his knees under him, and then he’s moving, thrusting long and deep, hips moving in wide circles, back and forth, in and out and in in  _ in _ , tilting, seeking, brushing sparks through Kurt sporadically.   
  
“Come, Kurt,” Blaine commands, hitching his leg up higher,  _ stretching _ him, tight and stretched above Kurt himself, holding him down and holding him up and bending him and fucking him straight into the mattress because there’s just nowhere else to go. “Come again, wanna see you come again, wanna feel it--”   
  
Blaine’s voice connects with something in him, and his hips find their mark, and Kurt is crying out, struggling, wound up and getting tighter and tighter--   
  
“Come on my cock, baby, wanna fuck you through it--”   
  
\--and Kurt  _ feels  _ it, feels his words and his hands and his weight and his cock and his balls slapping hard into his ass and the slide on his rim and his prostate and the sweat on Blaine’s belly and the pressure on his dick and the groan of the bed beneath him and the vibrations from Blaine’s chest--   
  
“--wanna hear you scream, come on Kurt, I  _ can’t _ \--”   
  
Kurt obliges, every sensation forming inside him and just  _ snapping _ , flying through his limbs as he throws his head back and shouts, coming all over both their stomachs, pulsing again and again and too much, too much, it’s starting to hurt--   
  
“Oh, fuck,  _ Kurt _ .”   
  
Blaine barely makes a sound, in contrast, when he stills, gripping Kurt way too hard as he comes, his eyes clenched tight as he shudders through it, grinding into Kurt until he collapses, releasing his hold on Kurt’s leg and arms, his head burying into the crook of Kurt’s neck and shoulder, mouthing weakly at the skin there.   
  
Kurt lies boneless for a minute before he speaks up.   
  
“Ow.”   
  
Blaine’s off him in a second, pulling out as carefully as he can in such a hurry.   
  
“Did I hurt you?” he asks, babbling. “Where? What can I do, what--”   
  
“It’s okay,” Kurt says, cutting him off. “I just...got too sensitive at the end. And I think you bruised my wrists.”   
  
Blaine takes Kurt’s arms from where he’d brought them up to look and kisses them tenderly, over and over.   
  
“I’m sorry,” he says, rubbing over Kurt’s muscles, everywhere he can reach, starting with his arms and running over his shoulders and chest and legs in soft strokes. “Tell me you felt good, tell me you’re good--”   
  
“I’m perfect,” Kurt breathes, relaxing and letting Blaine touch him, soothing and sweet. “Just...just hold me, okay? When you’re done.”   
  
Blaine pauses and finishes the path back up from where he’d been stroking Kurt’s calves. He wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist and pulls him gently over onto his side, wrapping around him, twining their legs, kissing Kurt chastely and just  _ breathing _ .   
  
“Wanted to take care of you,” Blaine murmurs, and Kurt’s not totally sure what Blaine is implying, but he shakes his head anyway.   
  
“You did,” he assures, eyes closed, drowsy. “You’re a natural. You sure you haven’t done this before?”   
  
“Okay, okay, enough with the cliches,” Blaine grumbles. Kurt smiles, laughing as much as he can with how drained he feels. “Go to sleep, beautiful. I’ll clean up.”   
  
“No you won’t,” Kurt says. “You’ll hold me until I wake up.”   
  
Kurt can almost hear his smile.   
  
“Don’t complain when you roll onto the wet spot, then.”


End file.
